


Tongue Tied

by td4d



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, george doesn’t reciprocate but that’s okay, kinda good ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29988243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/td4d/pseuds/td4d
Summary: In which Dream comes to the crashing realization that his fanfiction-esque feelings for a certain Brit are becoming all the more real, much to his own love struck dismay. Not to mention there’s a fatal flaw within it all— that being the fact George is straight, always has been and always will be, so rejection hangs strikingly high. How on earth is Dream meant to repress these ever changing emotions all the while maintaining his painfully flirty persona?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 22





	Tongue Tied

**Author's Note:**

> Guys please

Lighthearted, easygoing laughter had began to echo, bouncing gracefully off the porcelain colored walls within his designated recording room. Muffled giggles intertwining sweetly with uncontrolled wheezing had soon merged into a single, wonderfully familiar symphony— it was unmistaken, Dream was having the time of his life. His hand struggled to properly grip a mouse, the fingers meant to be sprawled out onto WASD presenting themselves as less than capable. With his eyes scrunched while tears balanced just over the brim, he’d forced out a few words through a split exclamation, retreating back into borderline painful chuckling.

“ Geooooorge—! I told you it was.. it was gonna kill you!, “

Though he was the one currently in the process of being mocked for his careless in game decisions, he didn’t care much. He’d joined the other’s immediate laughter as quickly as the death screen had appeared, finding it equally if not more humorous that he’d been brought to an end so suddenly. He’d dipped his head forward in an attempt to regain his breath, his headphones sliding off and landing upon his desk with an audible clack.

This scene had played out for awhile, both eventually settling with aching lungs.

“ Dreaaaaam!, “

He’d mirrored the other’s previously dragged pronunciation, partially stalling for time as to reassure he could regain at least a fraction of his posture.

“ I didn’t think it would reach me—, Reddit said that was the maximum distance it could hit!, “ Words were spoken hurriedly, George attempting to halfheartedly defend his prior idiocy. This seemed to have the absolute opposite effect though (as most things did), his twitch chat filling with keyboard spams and disapproving comments in an instant.

He’d groaned.

“ Look what you’ve done! Now chat thinks I’m an idiot for listening to a Reddit post, “

Shaking his head as his fingers grasped lazily at his hoodie drawstrings, his eyes flicked down to his headset, the sound of Dream slightly muffled yet still well over apparent.

“ Oh come on now, you’re supposed to test things, George!, “ the reminder seemed almost condescending, and George could tell full and well. As if it were predetermined, he rolled his eyes, sarcasm radiating heavily from the short lived action. “ Well, maybe that was my test, “

He’d gotten nothing but a condescending wheeze in return, hands brought down to rest against his keyboard.

“ Bet you didn’t think of that one, did you, Dweamie?, “

He heard something similar to a choke sound from the blonde, smiling fondly.

“ You are so dumb, “ 

The Brit perked in his seat, the soft curve that met the corners of his mouth sharpening into a mischievous grin.

“ Might be, but you love me, “

And with that comment Dream had momentarily paused, audibly shifting positions within his seat. 

“ I’m not the one who never says it back though, “

He couldn’t even complain, instead choosing to groan and rest his head against his desk, now fully out of frame. He’d stayed like that for a moment, hands folded together between his thighs as his elbows dug into the flesh beneath his jeans. The silence that drifted between the two was fairly comfortable, neither really knowing what to say but not feeling obligated to speak. That is, until George realized he was still in the middle of a stream. Thus— (Despite the fact he’d been live for less than two hours), he’d spoken his words of departure, crouching with his camera set to third person. As it came to a close they continued their conversation, slightly less filtered as the weight of thousands of viewers had just now been lifted.

The duo had eventually migrated to Discord, joining a call within their DMs, the pathway there practically instinctual. Several series of memorable clicks that always lead to the same happiness-inducing event.

May it be the hours upon hours of scheduled interaction for videos or the countless unmonitored conversations that took place ‘just because’, but Dream couldn’t help but note how closely he’d drifted to George. Every single time he recalled the words of theirs exchanged in a way that reeked of careful carelessness, he’d felt a fluff of warmth spread throughout him, tugging at his heart in a way that became intoxicating. He’d began chasing George, chasing the feeling of ignorant joy he got every time they spoke—, and it didn’t take too long for Dream to catch on to his own obsessive behavior. 

Sitting on his bed with a long since forgotten show blaring in the background or fiddling with his own hands as he waited for his ramen to cook the amount he deemed edible, he’d always found himself thinking of the same exact thing; George.

George, the way his voice danced gracefully into his ears and made him melt. George, the way he could sway his feelings so easily, so scarily. George, the way his very existence met his mind and kept it occupied, held it tightly and took it over. George, he loves the brunette so deeply it scares him.  


“ Hey, George?, “

Dream had finally spoken, leaning back in his chair but shifting his mic a bit closer to himself. He’d watched the ceiling, allowing his hands to rest against one another.

“ Yeah?, “

“ Why don’t you want the stream hearing you say you love me, too? Do you think it’s embarrassing? It’s been a bit for quite awhile, I get that. But don’t you think letting them hear it’s reciprocated will fuel them more?, “

Dreams question was well structured, no hesitance lacing the inquiry as he’d patiently awaited a response. He’d pondered such for awhile, bringing the topic itself up on occasion yet never going as far as genuinely asking. He was curious, and truth be told— he’d never even gotten an ‘ I love you, too ‘ off of stream, either.

“ The only thing it’s fueling is the DNF shippers, Dream, “

“ Yeah, but every time we interact we already get a plethora of those. What’s a few more? Maybe a quick #1 on trending, yeah, but the clip will probably be seen as more wholesome than anything, “ 

“ I’d like to keep my persona, Dream. Saying I love you back would just ruin that, “

Cocking an eyebrow upwards, the corners of his mouth dropped into a soft frown. 

“ Okay, then. Can you say it now?, “

“ What?, “

He’d moved so he was now leaning forward, fingers interlaced as he’d positioned himself closer to the mic.

“ Tell me you love me, George. No ones watching, no one can hear and it can’t taint your petty little reputation, “ 

“ Firstly, it’s not petty. And secondly, “

The pause at the end of the brunettes sentence made Dreams heart pick up in anticipation, figuring the words were more easily achieved than he figured they were.

“ No, “

Aaaand, his hope was shattered.

“ Come on—, “

“ I think that’s my queue to go to sleep. Goodnight, Dream, “

Furrowing his eyebrows, the Floridian began to think of things that might make this friend stay longer. He didn’t intend for the interaction to end so suddenly, in fact he still had hours worth of willingness to talk left in him.

“ But— “

“ Goodnight, “

And with that, George’s icon had dimmed and a lowly pitched ‘do do’ had indicated his departure.

_______________________

After awaiting the brits return for about ten or so minutes, Dream had came to the conclusion that he should just leave. Although it pained him to see the other online yet not active within his DMs, he’d left it alone and stood up from his seat. Stretching the muscles of his that were stiffer than others, he’d shaken his hands and ventured outside of his room. The door was left open, most of the lights in his house left on regardless of usage. He’d remained stood in the midst of an empty hallway for a few moments, trying to decide on what he wanted to do. He hadn’t planned edit or record, the moment he’d joined a call with George his schedule seemed to have dissipated, a problem he didn’t realize could bring him such indecisive boredom.

After a minute or so of scratching the surface of his thoughts, he’d concluded that he should probably eat dinner. Despite the fact it was about 8 PM and he wouldn’t be sleeping for hours to come, it was better he dull the hunger that lingered within his stomach now rather than later. He’d learned his lesson, putting off eating and waking up with the worst headache he could’ve imagined. The clinking of jars rung throughout the quiet space as he’d rummaged through his fridge for something easily prepared, checking clear containers for leftover foods that were probably weeks old. He truly didn’t want cereal or cheese and crackers, he’d eaten such for nights on end and he wasn’t particularly excited by the concept of either at the moment. He’d noted the idea of asking his mother for cooking lessons, feeling he should probably stop his dependence on her (given the fact being a grown man.)

In the end, he’d settled on a glass of water and a few Oreos. Why hadn’t he chosen milk? The container was hidden by several different bowls covered in tin foil and he couldn’t be bothered to rearrange his entire fridge for a sip of cow juice.

Returning to his room and sitting down in a green and white swivel chair, he’d placed the glass onto a coaster to the left of his keyboard as the cookies remained wrapped snuggly into a napkin. Leaning back and snapping off a chunk of Oreo, he’d popped it into his mouth and huffed.

He’d thought. Without George, his life felt uneventful.


End file.
